


The Last Colossus

by leakyotterpop



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leakyotterpop/pseuds/leakyotterpop
Summary: Two years after defeating Zaheer, Korra left the Southern Water Tribe. She never arrived at Republic City. Never was she seen again.Now, a decade later, the Earth Empire reigns over what was once the United Republic. The Fire Nation has been warring with the Empire to restore the Republic, but has made little progress.Asami, bitter and jaded, has been sabotaging development of a new weapon that will defeat the Fire Nation once and for all.





	1. Leaving Union City

People-watching never ceased to be entertaining for Asami. She spent her lunches on the same bench, hunched forward, elbows to knees, hands clasped. Her eyes darted around the park; everyone in a hurry, in stiff uniforms colored with sanctioned shades of green and silver. She eavesdropped on the curt and dry conversations, little else exchanged besides “all hail,” a different monotony to break the monotony of whirring mecha patrols. She pulled her flask from underneath the rough canvas of her uniform jacket. Its lid rattled with the tremor of her hand. After a deep swig, she pressed her lips against her forearm as she fought down the bitterness.  
  
_It wasn’t always like this._

Only that truth kept people-watching enjoyable. Her mind wandered back to when people lived here, instead of merely passing through. Long ago, this city was full of color. People at this park used to stay awhile. They used to play, fight, kiss, and talk. The sounds of laughter and music would back conversations on political stances, the latest fashions, sex lives, and last night’s probending matches. In the center of the park, there used to be a statue, and Asami used to look up to it and sit in its shade.

_She never even saw it._

A massive shadow passed over the park. Asami put back on her glasses and looked up at the barrel of a Colossus eclipsing the sun. Its tarnished arm pointed towards the bay, like those of its larger, still gleaming siblings that flanked it. The shade was Asami’s cue to head back to the office. She stood up, straightened her metal pauldrons, and set off.

She arrived at her office to find surprise guests. Standing before her desk was the Great Uniter herself, accompanied by chief brown-noser, Baatar Jr, relaxing in one of the guest chairs. In an instant, Asami straightened up and stomped her feet together. “All hail the Great Uniter!” She shouted with all the enthusiasm she could muster, and locked her gaze at some arbitrary spot in the ceiling.

“At ease, Officer Sato,” said Kuvira, with a smile and a wave of a hand. “Come, have a seat.”  
  
Asami took shaky steps to her desk, and elite guards slammed the doors shut behind her. She stood behind the chair with a white-knuckled hand gripping the seatback.

“First off, Baatar and I would like to apologize for the unannounced visit.”  
  
“It’s no problem at all. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting. To what do I owe the honor?”  
  
“Well, I have some wonderful, wonderful news. I understand that the primary cannon stabilizer had been an issue for over a year, yes?”  
  
“Correct. Despite the new alloy we developed last month, the thermals exceed constraints.”  
  
“Well, I’m pleased to announce Baatar had a miraculous breakthrough with it. He was able to get the system to ten degrees below the target threshold.”  
  
_Shit._

Asami fought back a sharp breath and nearly choked. “Th… that’s incredible.” She tried her best to feign a smile. And now, she had to try her best to feign curiosity. “How did you manage that?” 

“Well, it was simple. Surprisingly simple, actually,” Baatar said, more smarmy than ever. “There seemed to be a mistake of sorts with an entire portion of the cooling subsystem. For some reason, the test data failed to show that it was actually heating instead of cooling.”  
  
“Oh my, so this entire delay, an entire year, all the result of an erroneous figure, then?”  
  
“Not just one.” Baatar leaned forward, his eyes seemed to be searching her face. “Dozens and dozens. This data must have been leading everyone toward the wrong solutions. After I found this, fixing the subsystem was pretty straightforward. In fact, it seems like a lot of the components did little outside of heating.”  
  
“Easy, Baatar,” Kuvira interjected, “She’s done amazing work for us. A few missteps don’t negate that.” She flashed a grin at Asami.  
  
“No, of course not. After all, the flaw was incredibly easy to overlook. Save for a few very minor differences, it was hard to distinguish from a cooling solution. Inadvertently, it’s quite a brilliant design for hiding a heater.” He let out an obnoxious, disgusting laugh.

Asami attempted to join him, but her throat was dry and her laugh sounded more like the bleat from a sickly goat-dog, a suitable reflection of how she felt at the moment. “Well, I’ll be the first to admit my mistakes. I have to hand it to you, I don’t think I would have ever found it myself.”

“I think we both know you wouldn’t have-”  
  
“Baatar!” Shouted Kuvira, causing him to nearly fall back in his chair. She turned to Asami. “You’re the most brilliant engineer in the Empire, Asami. There’s no way we would ever be this far without your genius, and I am sure you would have found it sooner or later.” This did little to ease Asami, despite the seeming sincerity. At least she found pleasure in the impressive curvature of Baatar’s frown.  
  
With a sigh, Kuvira removed her gloves and slapped them down on the desk, then headed toward the liquor cabinet. “So, with the final obstacle out of the way, it won’t be long before this project is finally complete.” She picked up the oldest bottle of baiju and nodded at Baatar, who shook his head, and poured two drinks. “Despite the best efforts of our anonymous saboteur. Too late for the ‘Black Spirit’ to stop us now. This war is already over.” She handed a glass to Asami. “Why not celebrate a little?”  
  
Asami tried her best to quell her shaking as she grabbed the glass. It took every fiber of her being not to throw it back all at once. Instead, she tastefully matched Kuvira’s sip down to the milliliter.  
  
Kuvira licked her lips and stared at her glass. Without looking up, she commanded, “Baatar, guards, could you leave us for a second.” Baatar looked at Kuvira, then at Asami, and back again. There was a momentary silence, long enough for Kuvira to speak again, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”  
  
He reluctantly rose from his seat. “As you wish,” he grumbled. The guards followed him, closing the doors behind them.  
  
Asami turned to look at the view of the bay from her office window. Kuvira took another sip and pressed herself against Asami side. Their hips touched, the metal on their shoulders clinking together.

“I’m sorry about that,” Kuvira spoke at almost a low rumble now, “he can really lack tact sometimes.” She reached for Asami’s upper arm, gripping it slightly, and slid her thumb back and forth along her bicep.

“No need to apologize. Catching that shameful mistake, he’s earned the chance to gloat.” Asami barely heard herself over her own rapid heartbeat, keeping her view locked on the glimmer of the bay.  
  
Kuvira chuckled a little, her breath hitting the back of Asami’s neck. She removed her hand from Asami’s shoulder, a finger lingered and slid down before it left. “Always so humble, so hard on yourself. You know I don’t hold the delay against you. That terrorist made things difficult regardless. Always one step ahead of us.”  
  
Asami took another sip of her drink, trying to ignore the hand sliding down her lower back. “No, it couldn’t stop us from being on track for the Black Sun. We just won’t have all that much testing beforehand.”  
  
“We will if we move quickly. I’m already having the whole stabilizer sent to the staging ground tonight before any chatter gets out.” Her hand grabbed, and Asami held back a wince. “And then perhaps, with your newfound free time, you’ll return to being unprofessional with me. Like you promised in that little ‘addendum’ to your project proposal.”  
  
Before Asami could concoct a response, Kuvira released her grip and headed for the door. “Until then, Officer Sato.”

Asami continued to stare at her drink. A tear fell into the glass. She hurled it onto the floor. Shards of crystal, nearly crushed into powder, slid to the far reaches of the room.

 

* * *

 

Well into the curfew, a solitary truck rolled down the freeway. Wide enough to fill two lanes, it burbled along at a cautious pace.

The driver gripped the steering wheel as they approached a gentle turn. “Man, every time I twitch the wheel just a little, it feels like we’ll flip. I’ve kept the pedal half down just to keep us at thirty. Did anyone tell you what’s in this thing?”

“Nope. Commander said nothing. Can’t imagine what it is,” said the guard seated next to him, who stared off at the passing streetlights. “With no escort, I can’t imagine it’s all that important.”

“Maybe a Colossus part?”  
  
“We’re heading to the airfield, so probably not. Do we even need another one?”  
  
A sudden rumble cut into their conversation. They checked their respective mirrors to catch a black motorcycle darting out of an intersection. “Shit, it’s the Black Spirit!” The driver floored the pedal while the guard scrambled for her radio. “Unit 230, we’re being tailed by the Black Spirit. Requesting immediate assistance! Over.” In the time it took for her to finish her message, the Black Spirit pulled up next to the truck. She could see its green goggles and brass-laden glove against its black suit and mask.

“On our right! Run it off the road!” The guard shouted. The driver steered the truck into the concrete barrier, grazing the side of the truck against it. In a shower of sparks and a burst of flames, the motorcycle went under the rear wheels.

She brought her radio back up to her mouth. “Unit 230, I think we’re in the clear. We ran it--”

A shock glove crashed through the passenger window, gripping the guard by her wrist and sending blue bolts through her body. Before she could even slump, The Black Spirit leaned in and pulled her through the window. By the time the driver had readied his stun baton, it had leaped into the cabin. One hand still on the wheel, he swung the baton. The Spirit’s whole body darted out of the way, and the baton bounced on the seat. A boot pressed into his forearm before he could ready a second swing. With both feet, he slammed the brakes, hoping to throw the spirit off. But that boot didn’t ease off in the slightest, and a glove clenched around his neck. A brief flash of brilliant blue was the last thing he saw.

After, dumping him out onto the street, the Black Spirit closed the door and brought the truck up to speed, defty rowing through the many gears. The truck veered towards the pier. Its barrier was fast approaching, but the Spirit only accelerated. There was more than enough mass to break through and send the truck plunging into Yue Bay. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, ready to sink into the cold water and let go.

A bright, violet light pierced her visor and her eyelids, quickly followed by the deafening roar of a Colossus firing at the road in front of her. She opened her eyes to see a deep, smoldering crater between her and the pier. She slammed the brakes but the truck couldn’t slow in time. There was a moment of weightlessness before the truck plunged into the dirt.

The first thing that broke the void was the ringing in her ears. Over it, she could hear footsteps and chatter. She could barely breathe or see through her shattered goggles. Through the overwhelming pain that wracked her whole body, she could feel hands lifting her mangled self off the remains of the dashboard. Something caught her abdomen and pulled at her insides, and she screamed.

“What a mess. A piece of the frame pierced through her. What should we do?”

“The Great Uniter wants her alive! Get it out of her carefully and make sure she’s stable.”

She slipped out of consciousness again.

The sudden cold against her face brought her back. She gasped for the brisk air but choked from the pain in her waist. A hand on her cheek rolled her head gently, and she saw her tattered mask on the pavement next to her. She looked up to see Kuvira leaning over her with an icy expression.

“So the legendary Black Spirit turns out to be Asami Sato. A bit of an anticlimax to be honest. There aren’t very many as skilled as you when it comes to an Equalist glove. I just couldn’t believe you would be so obvious. I wanted to be surprised. Maybe it was a proxy. Maybe you were being framed. Disappointing.”

Kuvira kneeled to get closer to Asami, who tried to look away. She grabbed her chin with a crushing grip and jerked her head back to face hers. “You had to have known it was a trap. I made it obvious. I…” She gulped, took a deep breath to regain composure, but a tear still streaked down her cheek. “I wanted you to change your mind, to not show up tonight. And yet you were so desperate you were willing to die.” She leaned in close to Asami, staring into her eyes, and loosened her grip. “Tell me, is seeing me win, is being mine--is it all really that awful to you?”

Asami mustered a cruel smile. “All hail,” she wheezed out, before spitting a mouthful of blood at Kuvira’s face.

Kuvira turned away. She wiped the blood off with the back of her hand before swiftly slamming her fist into Asami’s gut. With a yelp, Asami went limp. She then stood up and turned to face Baatar approaching from the wreckage.

“The stabilizer’s badly damaged but still repairable. It might take us many weeks, but I think we can still make the day of the Black Sun.” He glanced at Asami, who was being carried off on a stretcher. “What will you do with her? She’s too dangerous to be kept alive.”  
  
“Her mind is too valuable to waste. I want her sent to the camps immediately.”  
  
“If she won’t share that mind with us, then she’s worthless. Are you really going to let her fool you again?”  
  
Kuvira’s fist shot up, and the pauldrons around Baatar pushed together around his neck. He fell to his knees as she lowered her arm. She bent him closer, dragging him along the asphalt. “This isn’t up for debate,” she declared.  
  
“Y… Yes… my love,” he hastily choked out.

Kuvira opened her hand and stormed off, leaving Baatar coughing and gasping on all fours.

 

* * *

 

At the jingle of chains, Asami’s eyes fluttered open. What little blood she had left pooled to her head, leaving her body cold and numb to the cuffs and chains that bound her arms and legs. The dimly lit surroundings swayed around her, but they were familiar. She was hanging upside down in the cargo hold of a meat-packing airship Future Industries used to sell. Her hair, matted with dirt and sweat, mopped the puddle of blood on the floor. She briefly pulled her head up to assess her situation before pain shot back into her abdomen. Cuffs around her wrists were chained to her ankles, and her ankles dangled from a hook on the ceiling.

She tugged at her chains, but there was no slack. There was nothing else in the hold, nothing on the other hooks, not even a single dequilled boar-q-pine. No one was around to hear her cries. Windows were absent, and a sealed platinum door separated the cockpit.

So this is the undignified send-off for the members of Kuvira’s inner circle that vanish, she realized. Her future held nothing but platinum mining and torture. In a few weeks, the day of the Black Sun will pass, and there would be no hope for reprieve.

The cabin shook violently, and Asami rocked forward. She could hear alarms coming from the cockpit. Her hair floated upwards. The airship was going down. She tucked her head up and braced as best as she could.

The impact threw her up and to the side of the hold. At once, murky water seeped in slowly through gaps in the metal. The airship must have landed on its side. She kicked her legs free of the hook and wormed her way towards the cockpit, fighting back the pain. The cockpit was flattened in the crash, and the door had come ajar. She pulled herself up against what was left of the doorframe and gagged at the sight of the remains of the pilots. Luckily, the keys were within her reach.

Asami grabbed the keyring from the copilot’s belt with her teeth. She leaned against the frame and dropped the keys onto her hands. With a twist and a click, the cuffs and chains fell away into the water. She rose to her feet, clutching her abdomen, the water up to her knees. Sliding against the former floor, she pulled the manual release on the loading ramp and pushed it open with her shoulder.

It was dusk, and before her was thick fog. She was knee-deep in a swamp. She looked back at the airship and gasped at the surreal sight. Dozens of meter-thick vines enveloped the airship in a sort of embrace, covering it almost entirely.

She limped through the swamp until she reached a muddy shore. Branches crackled near her, and she turned to face the source of the noise. Through the fog, she saw a shadowy figure perched on a large log.

“Who’s there?” She tried to shout, but it came out nearly a wheeze. She collapsed in the mud, struggling to catch her breath. She peeled off the hand on her waist to inspect it, and found it covered in sticky, blackening blood. “Please, I need your help.”

The figure approached, slowly, cautiously. Asami could make out that it was a thin woman. Green, incredibly tattered cloth covered her dark skin. She got closer. Her hair was long, wild and unkempt, and the dark strands clinging to her face obscured it.  
  
The woman held out a hand in front of her, and from it spawned a weak and sputtering flame. But it was enough to illuminate both their faces. Asami saw the look of shock on the woman’s face and the unmistakable glacial blue of those eyes. “Korra,” she whispered.

Asami gave in to the weight of her eyelids and slumped forward. Before the world faded away, she felt callused hands against her back, a firm shoulder against her chin, and a damp cheek pressed against her own.


	2. The Cave

A searing fever made the passing days, like the weak firelight that lit the cave, a fitful struggle against the dark. The only constant sensations Asami could hold onto were the rough cloths and thatch of the cot against her skin. Rough clay often pressed against her lip, delivering a hot liquid. She coughed at the overpowering taste of pungent mushrooms and bitter herbs. “Yeah, I know,” Korra whispered. “It’s not the best tasting, but you need to drink it.”

The fever raged and Asami thrashed around under the sheets. Drawn-out groans broke her incoherent muttering. One night, she rolled off the cot and flopped onto the floor. Her sweat-soaked skin slapped against frigid stones, and she shivered violently as she dragged herself towards the light of the cave opening. When Korra’s arms wrapped under hers, their power seemed infinite in contrast, and she couldn’t resist much as they hoisted her back onto the cot. “Need… need to go back… stop her” Asami pleaded as Korra tucked her back in, leaving little slack in the sheets. A damp cloth against her forehead extinguished the last of her fight for the night.

On one occasion, Asami noticed a strange prickling, numbing sensation around her waist. She peered down, and in the dim firelight, witnessed Korra attempting to heal the larger wounds. But the water’s weak glow flickered and faded, and its throbbing only stung. She groaned at the dithering pressure. At the sound, Korra jumped back, and the water rolled off. “Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry. I… I just… I can’t…” She trailed off with a sigh and shuffled away. Over the fire crackling, Asami heard faint sobbing echoing through the cave.

She re-awoke to a thumb stroking her cheek. “Hey, I need you up for this.” Korra chewed her lip, her face full of worry. “That big wound isn’t closing. It’s still bleeding, and it’s starting to rot. I’ll have to close it with fire. I’m sorry. It’s the only way I can.” She pressed the heel of her thumb against Asami’s mouth. “Bite down, okay?” Asami gave a nod and took in the hand between her teeth. Korra took a deep breath. She formed a fist with her other hand and a weak, crimson flame sputtered out the bottom, sparking, smoking. She gradually lowered it towards the wound. “I’m so, so sorry.” Asami shrieked into the hand, clenching around bone until she drew blood. But the hand didn’t flinch or pull back in the slightest.

As her fever eased, she entered a deep sleep, and beneath her eyelids played countless dreams. In one of them, she found herself in a bed underneath a rustic ramada. Through the sheer red curtains, she saw a picturesque beach. She felt the sea breeze, and the gentle breathing of a warm body pressed against her back. She didn’t know whose it was, but it seemed so familiar, so comforting, and so _right_ that she didn’t turn to look. Things were perfect the way they were.

In an instant, purple light overwhelmed the dusk sky, followed by searing heat.

She shot up in the cot, panting. After she gathered herself, she let out a little sigh of relief, thankful to be in the cave and surprised at her improved condition. Her fever had subsided and the pain her abdomen diminished to a dull soreness. Running her hand across her stomach, she surveyed the wound _—_ red and tender, but closed and healing nicely.

Korra was nowhere in sight. For the first time since Asami’s arrival, she could take in her full surroundings, thanks to the afternoon light that streamed in through the opening. Flat stones of various shapes served as flooring, some worn smooth along paths to the cots and the fire pit. Something was stewing over the fire. Across were dozens of clay pots and bowls that lined the cave side. She pushed away the ragged sheets and stumbled around the cave bare. Small indents lined with wood along the back of the cave acted as shelving, and she found her black suit, rinsed and folded alongside some rags and fabrics. As she dressed, she noted the sizable hole torn in the midsection. She went through the messy pile of Korra’s clothes and found a tattered green sash wide enough to conceal it.

A shadow appeared at the cave opening, and she turned to find Korra entering, with a spear in one hand, and in the other a thatch basket with two large fish poking out of the top.

“You’re up,” Korra said with a small, bashful grin.  
  
Asami shot forward for the tightest hug she could give. It hurt, but she didn’t mind. “It’s actually you! I never thought I’d see you again. I missed you so, so much.” Her voice cracked a little. She threaded her fingers through Korra’s hair and pulled her tighter. There was a moment of hesitation, but she soon heard the basket and spear drop and felt Korra’s hands against her back.

“Me too,” Korra whispered.

“We have so much we need to talk about. I mean where do I even start? The war? The occupation? Kuvira? The...” Asami pulled away, holding Korra by the shoulders with hands trembling from her excitement.

Korra’s smile dropped along with her gaze. “Asami, can we eat first? I’ll have food ready soon.”

“I…” Asami’s hands slipped off and retreated to her sides. “I mean, yeah, sure. But don’t you want to catch up? At all?”  
  
“We can catch up afterward.”  
  
Asami didn’t know how to feel about Korra’s sudden shift in mood. She swallowed. “I guess I’m pretty hungry.”

 

* * *

 

Night fell, they spoke little as Korra tended to the soup. Occasionally, Korra would ask about how Asami was feeling. She would give terse answers while observing Korra’s every move. Yet Asami couldn’t get a read on her, and so she continued holding back everything she wanted to share until she could. When the soup was ready, Korra dipped two bowls into the pot and handed one to Asami, who took a hurried sip. She questioned if its flavor improved or if she had just grown accustomed to it, but to her own surprise, she found it delicious.  
  
“Any discomfort while eating?”  
  
“Korra, again, I’m fine.” Asami said as she inelegantly grabbed a piece of flaky fish meat and shoved it into her mouth, licking her fingers clean. “My appetite is definitely back.”  
  
Korra took a sip from her bowl. She stared at the fire. “Was that your airship?”  
  
“It wasn’t.” Asami set aside the bowl. “I was a prisoner on it, and the wounds weren’t from the crash.” She waited for a response, some sign of interest, but there was none. Korra stayed still. “Korra, things have gotten really, really bad. The entire Earthen continent, including what was the United Republic, has been conquered by a dictator. The world is more out of balance than ever. If we don’t go back, and we don’t go back quickly, they will conquer the Fire Nation, and then the water tribes. They’re weeks away from finishing the weapon to do it.”  
  
“Asami, can we talk about this later?”  
  
“Are you not listening? Aren’t you getting how dire the situation is?”  
  
“I… we’ll talk about this another time. You need to get more rest.”  
  
“What is this? Why are you avoiding this? You’re the only hope left, don’t you fucking get it?”  
  
“I know, just... please, Asami, I’ll explain it another time.”  
  
Asami stood and kicked her bowl, the clay shattering against the cave wall. She stomped over to Korra and leaned over her. “Explain now.”

“Asami, please… I...” Her voice became meeker.

“No. Twelve years. Twelve fucking years. You vanished, and the world went to shit. I waited for some sign, even just a shred of hope. I nearly let go. And right before I did, after some fucked-up circumstances I land right where you are, just for you to be like… like _this_. No. I think I deserve an explanation. Tell me.”

“Please…”

“Tell me!”

“Fine! Because I can’t help you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I can’t go into the Avatar state. I can barely even bend at all! Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed.”

“I did. I noticed, and it doesn’t matter to me. We can figure something out. You’re still the only shot we have. Fuck, Korra, I haven’t felt this much hope in years, and I’m not leaving without you.”

“Asami, I can’t leave with you. I can point you to the nearest village _-_ ”

“Oh! So you aren’t lost. You’ve just _given up_! You know where civilization is and yet you choose to waste away in this swamp.”

“I… I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

 **“Because she won’t let me!”** Korra screamed as she leapt to her feet.

Asami leaned back at the statement, and at once she felt ashamed for her outburst. Concern supplanted her anger. “Who?”

Korra stormed out of the cave. Asami raised a hand to grab her, but stopped herself.

 

* * *

 

For the next few hours, Asami lay in her cot, waiting for Korra to return. In her head, she admonished herself for her behavior, and ruminated on Korra’s, until the fire died down and the cave went dark.

Through the chirping of cicada-hoppers, she could hear shouts in the distance coming from the cave opening. They sounded dire. They sounded like Korra’s.  
  
Asami bolted out of the cave. She stopped at the entrance to listen for the shouts. Once she had a rough direction of their origin, she sprinted as fast as she could through the trees, leaping over brambles and vines.

“Korra!? Korra, I’m coming!”

The forest grew denser, darker as the thick canopies blotted out the moonlight. She stopped again to catch her breath and listen for a direction. The screams were louder, but harder to locate as they reverberated through the trees. She spun around, and a bright spot between the trunks caught her attention. Flashes of red appeared, and she charged towards that direction.

“Korra!?”

She ran towards the light until she found herself in a clearing. It clearly wasn’t natural. Before her were hundreds of fallen trees, charred, splintered, and torn from their stumps. Trunks meters thick lay in various states of decay, some wrapped in vines, some perched against the curves of numerous deep craters in the soil. Korra’s shouts rang through open sky. Asami rushed through the logs and craters until she neared Korra.

Korra was alone, alternating between stumbling back and flailing at the empty air. Her panicked jabs, kicks, and swings yielded nothing but feeble spurts of red flame and mere ripples in the mire. As she retreated, she lost her footing and fell into the mud. She scrambled on all fours and cowered by a tree stump. Asami rushed to her side. “Korra, what is it? What’s going on?”  
  
Korra looked past Asami in sheer terror, pointing with a quivering hand. “It- it- it- it’s her.”  
  
Asami turned to where she pointed and saw nothing. She turned back to Korra, who now sat rigid and upright. She was completely expressionless, her eyes closed. “Korra?” Asami grabbed her shoulder and found it freezing.  
  
Without looking, Korra rose to her feet and strode to where she once pointed. Once she was a few meters out, she stopped and turned to face a bewildered Asami.

Korra’s eyes reopened with a burst of white light, followed by a strong gust of wind. She had entered the Avatar state and started to rise above the ground. As she pulled back her arms, Asami dove out of the way, distancing herself from the stump. The Avatar took no interest in her. She sent a flurry of elements towards the stump, right in the spot where Korra had cowered. It splintered immediately from the force, but the Avatar was relentless. The barrage continued, aimed at the exact same spot, kicking up heaps of dirt up high into the air.

“Korra, stop!” Asami shouted as she watched in horror, but the Avatar was oblivious to her presence. Despite her immense fear, Asami stepped closer to her. “Korra! Please!” The crater grew deeper, fast approaching the size of the surrounding ones. Asami gripped her ankle and tugged, but the Avatar paid no attention, continuing her attack.  
  
“I’m here for you,” Asami spoke gently, nearly inaudible over the wind and impact.  
  
The Avatar stopped. She looked down towards her ankle and started to lower. As soon as her toes touched the ground, her eyes faded to blue and rolled back as she slumped.

Asami caught her before she collapsed in the mud. She brushed Korra’s hair aside. “Korra?” She didn’t respond, but Asami noticed her steady breathing. She put her arms across her shoulders and underneath her knees and carefully lifted her, carrying her back to the cave.

 Korra was lighter than she remembered, back when she would lift her from her chair to her bed.

 

* * *

 

Asami awoke to find Korra missing. A bowl of soup, still warm, was by her cot.

She made her way to the same clearing from last night to find Korra sitting in front of a fallen trunk, her knees drawn close to her chest. She was staring at the ground in front of her before she noticed Asami approach.  
  
“So you’ve seen her now,” her voice hoarse.  
  
Asami nodded before looking away. She couldn’t handle the sadness and residual fear in those glistening blue eyes peering up at her.

“Thank you.”  
  
“For what?”

_What could she be thanking me for? For not being understanding? For being cold and selfish?_

“I saw you screaming at her. Talking her down. She stopped. She rarely stops that soon.” Her little lopsided grin broke the fragments of Asami’s heart further.

“Hey, I’m sorry for earlier.”  
  
“Don’t be. You were right. These past few years I’ve given up, shut myself away from the world. It doesn’t need me. Not the way I am now.”  
  
“No, I was far from right. You haven’t given up and the world still needs you. You’re still here, still fighting, and that counts for something.”

Korra sighed. “The first few years I tried to fight. I tried to get better, even made a little progress. But as each year passed without Raava, I lost hope. Things only worsened from there, and I realized that I would never be myself again.” Her head sunk behind her knees. “I keep thinking the only way to fix things, the only thing left for me to do is to... make way for another Avatar.”  
  
Asami knelt beside her, sliding her hand across Korra’s back to clutch her shoulder. They spent a while like this in stillness until Asami broke the silence.  
  
“I’ve been there, too. I can’t say I’m whole either.” She stared at her the back of her hand, picturing her mask reflecting in the brass of her glove. “I was guilty _—_ upset about being a cog in a cruel machine, being a coward, and giving up on what was right. I gave up. Before I came crashing back into your life, if things went the way I wanted them to, I’d be gone.”

“You almost were.” Gently, Korra placed her hand on the sash.  
  
“Right.” Asami placed her hand on top of Korra’s as she considered her next words. “Look, I know it’s not as easy as just telling you, ‘don’t’. It never is. But if you did, now _that’s_ giving up.”  
  
Asami placed a hand against Korra’s tear-streaked cheek, turning her head so that their eyes met. “Do you remember all those years ago, before Jinora’s ceremony? I told you I’m always here for you. Well, you haven’t made that easy, but here I am. I might not be who I once was either, but I’m always here for you. The world doesn’t need its Avatar as much as it needs you, Korra.”  
  
Fresh tears retraced the paths along her skin. “It feels like there’s so little left of me, like she took all of me with her.”  
  
“Nothing we can’t get back. It will take work, but I promise you that we can get through this if we work together. And when we do, well, maybe we’ll find something better. Maybe we’ll find the best versions of ourselves.” She stood up and extended a hand to Korra. “If the world relies on you, then it can wait for you too. But you have to promise me that you want to get better _—_ that you want this for yourself.”

Korra's hand met Asami’s with a clap. She pulled herself up.


End file.
